


Burning Alive

by SpicyHarmony



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyHarmony/pseuds/SpicyHarmony
Summary: Winter is here, and with it comes the dead. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

**JON**

The chill and bite of the North welcomed its King with great abandon. Jon Snow was home and his home knew it all too well. As he looked upon the familiar gates of Winterfell in the distance, a great longing filled his bones and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to ride in and see his father standing proud and true, once again the powerful Warden of the this great land. He wanted to go in and see Robb sparring and see little Arya scuffle with Bran and though he knows he is to finally, finally see his precious sister and curious little brother once more, the words of the Lady Brienne ring loud in his mind.

' _I'm sworn to protect her, your grace. Though, I suppose those who cross her blade are the only ones that will need protecting."_

" _Bran is...observant. He knows many things, Your Grace."_

Though not much to go on, her words gave the King a sense of foreboding. He didn't know his siblings anymore. He wasn't able to protect them from the horrors of the cruel world and they've changed, evolved into what they needed to be to survive. Even sweet Sansa could not be shielded, and though she did not bare a strong love for him in her youth, it does not make him love her any less. And love them he did, all of them. His family, his pack. He needed to get to them, to see what was left of his family all together.

A hand resting on is shoulder broke Jon out of his musings. Looking up his eyes connected with a shock of violet that never fails to take his breath away. The Mother of Dragons was looking at him with a softness in her eyes that he has gotten used during their journey to the North, and yet he should not think he deserves such tenderness. It was decided that she was to ride into Winterfell with the King on a horse rather than with her beloved Dragons. They were off hunting, although looking at the Queen's pained face, Jon knows they must be mourning their fallen brother in a way only they knew.

"Do you not wish to put an end to such a long journey, Lord Snow? What has you so distracted that would halt you when you are so close to your home?"

"It's nothing, Your Grace. Just thinking about my family. What it will be like to see them all together. What Bran might look like, what it will feel like to hold my little Arya in my arms again."

Daenerys removed her hand for his shoulder and Jon wanted it back on him, touching him, feeling him everywhere. He was in love with this woman, there was no doubt and he knew she loved him. They hadn't said it in so many words but they feel it in every caress, in every breath shared between them in the dark of the night when they can put away the titles and politics and just be one. With his banner men and Davos and Tyrion and her men following behind them, waiting, Jon knows he can't touch her, can barely look at her with causing some kind of uproar. But Gods, does he want to.

"I'm sure they are just as eager to see you Jon," she whispered for only his ears, "must you keep them waiting?"

"Aye, my queen, I do not wish to keep them waiting any longer," he murmured back.

He turned over his right shoulder to his trusted adviser, Ser Davos, who was looking at him a raised brow. Ignoring his look, Jon gave him a subtle nod turned back towards Winterfell, urging his horse forward.

"Onward men! The King in the North is going home!"

As Ser Davos' command began a chorus of "The King in the North" Jon could not help but to look over and Daenerys. Bending the knee to her meant to no longer carry such a title, but looking at her face riding alongside him, she looked content in the shouts of the Northern men. How odd.

Looking forward once more, he propelled his horse into gallop, no longer able to stop himself of the need to be inside those stone walls again. They are a comfort that could not be found elsewhere, a comfort that cannot be taken even with the impending war with the Night King. But more than that, seeing his family in those stone walls is what will truly make being there such a blessing.

Jon Snow was ready to go home, and if the gods are good, he will never have to leave it again. He has a feeling his hopes are futile.

**DAENERYS**

Looking upon the looming castle she has come to know as Winterfell after urging Jon forward, Dany can't stop her heart from quickening. The North is a vital region in her beloved Seven Kingdoms and it is so very loved by those who call it home. Though most southerners would very well see the expansive snows and dreary skies as less than desirable, Dany can see the beauty in it. She can appreciate its wild winds as they kiss her cheeks, and while the fire in her blood prevents her truly feeling it, she knows its force could ice her bones. She's come to adore the way the snow sticks, nothing but pure white as far as the eye can see.

But that wasn't what made the Dragon Queen anxious. She was in a foreign land but she always knew all the lands in Westoros to be her own. No, what made Dany nervous were the people. The people were different than land, she does not wish to force her rule upon them. She was not Cersei, she would not have them fear her. The Throne is her birthright but she does not wish to rule her people of Westoros with hatred and cruelty. She wants their loyalty and their love. These people were not her people, not yet, she was not their queen as they do not know her. They bore no love for her or her House. Their opinion of her stem from her father, the Mad King, and Daenerys cannot fault them for feeling this way. The Mad King was true to his name and his murder of Rickard and Brandon Stark made certain that there was no love lost between the Northmen and House Targaryen. Dany can only hope that the loyalty of their chosen King, son of the honorable Eddard Stark, will help sway them to her cause.

 _'Their chosen_ _King'_ Dany repeats in her head. Jon Snow was an utter mystery. Former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, a warrior in his own right, a bastard no less, chosen as King in the North. An honorable man, just like his father, as her Lord Hand is keen on reminding her. A worthy ally in the wars to come.

And yet, every time her eyes connect with Jon's, Dany sees more than a mere ally. She sees what she once dreamed of with her beloved Khal. She sees in him the tales she would hear of love and desire and passion. When she saw him with her Drogon, he made her _want_. He made her want things that she had long come to terms with never having. She is a Khaleesi, the mother of her beloved Dragons. She has lost two of her children, one from her Khal and one from her blood. She cannot bear the pain of wanting and losing another. And yet Jon Snow had made her dream it and now she cannot move past it. And as he holds her in the dark of the night, when it is just this man and her as they become one, she cannot bear the hope that swells in her of having this. With him.

Daenerys is not a fool. She knows the political gain to come from this relation with the proclaimed King in the North. She is sure an alliance sealed with marriage will only strengthen their ties and help the North see her as their rightful ruler, a Queen who stands as their chosen King's equal. And though she has spent a great deal of time demanding that Lord Snow bend the knee, as she hears the cries of his banner men's _'The King in the North'_ she cannot help but feel it suits him, this title of "King". Perhaps he could be her King.

It has become a common occurrence over that past several days for Dany to think more and more on what would make Lord Snow happy. She finds that with a man as uninterested in his own happiness as he is, she must think about it for him. She does not bring herself to think that he could love her in the same way that she has come to love him. If she does it will be all too easy for her to take what she wants and she must think about what a marriage with her would mean for him. Tis true that she should not trust the word of her husband's murderer, but Daenerys won't let herself be taken away by false hopes of a naïve King. She cannot give him an heir. And though he may think he loves her enough for that not to matter, Dany fears that later on, he will come to regret the choice he makes by being hers. And that, she was sure, she will not survive.

Now, upon the gates of Winterfell her mind takes a different turn as she thinks about Jon finally being home again. She's never truly known the feeling of _coming home._ They say her home is Dragonstone, birthed there during a wretched storm. What she feels there is many things; pride, strength and a deep connection to her ancestry. But she doesn't know if its home, not truly. Perhaps she'll finally feel that once she sits on the Iron Throne.

As Dany thinks of Jon's homecoming , to those he can call his own, she cannot help but feel envious of him. Many have spoken of his love for the North and his people but the love in his eyes at the mentions of his family can never be contested. When she lies in his arms after he's taken her thoroughly, they talk of what their lives had been like, of how they became what they are. He talks of his brother Robb, taken too young in a fight he shouldn't have had to fight, and how they would spar and laugh and grow together. He speaks of Sansa, so beautiful and proper, whose innocence and dreams were stolen from her. He admires his brother Bran for his curiosity and adventurous nature and he recalls the devastation of his accident before his own journey to the wall. His eyes fill with sadness as he speaks of little Rickon, so small and brave, taken in a battle he should never have been in the middle of. When he remembers Arya, she feels him tremble. The love he has for his _'wild she-wolf'_ sister is present in every word he speaks. He missed her the most, he says. He doesn't think it was nice to play favorites but she was always his and he was always hers. He doesn't talk much about his regrets for Arya but Dany knows they weigh on him with every breath he takes. And while yes, she has her beloved children, her wondrous dragons, she cannot stop the ache of wanting another person with her blood. Someone that was _hers._

She does find herself hoping they like her. He always speaks of his siblings with such reverence and Dany can only hope to receive such adoration from him.

' _Oh Dany, are the love and affection of so many not enough that you must still yearn for his and his family's? You are not some docile lady. You are the Mother of Dragons!"_ Dany quietly chastises herself. She must not forget herself and what she fights for. Her love for him is true, and she will fight for him and his people but she cannot lose herself in his love. They are _her_ people, even if they do not see themselves as such. These are _her_ lands, even if another is laying claim on it. The Dead Men that took her Viscerion must pay, and then Cersei will know her wrath with Fire and Blood.

**SANSA**

Sansa smiles as she commands the gates to be opened, ready to welcome her brother. The King in the North returns with a new ally, it would seem. She must admit, though hesitant with her brother's stubborn decision to meet with the Dragon Queen at her summons, it could not have gone better than expected. Remembering the affection so clearly shown in his letter to her, she cannot help but think there's more to it. Baelish did mention the Queen's beauty.

' _A new ally indeed'_

She does have to wonder what this new development will bring in regards to their Northern allies. Regardless, she will support Jon in his derision to ally the North with the Dragon Queen. Her help will be needed in the War to come. Winter is here and with it come the dead.

Whatever the reaction, the North must remember that the Stark's are a pack and any who seek to betray them will pay for it. Just like Lord Baelish.

**ARYA**

Hiding. Waiting. Watching. She doesn't know if she is ready. She has waited so long but she cannot make herself leave her chambers. She looks different, what if he can't remember her face? She is different now, in so many ways, and she did not think she could feel fear. But she does, she fears what he'll think of her, of what she has become. She fears that he will deny her when he learns of the things she has done. He is honorable, like father. What she is cannot be considered honorable, or just. But it is her way of surviving.

' _Move Arya, go! You have to see him, finally he is home.'_

Her brother is home.

**What do you think? Clarification before anyone asks, anything you may be inferring in regards to a romantic Jon/Arya or Jon/Sansa is a no. They love each other deeply and strongly as siblings (*spoiler*cousins*spoiler). And not the Jaime and Cersei way.**

**Reviews are my butterbeer. I like butterbeer**


	2. CHAPTER TWO

**CHAPTER TWO**

**ARYA**

Her silent movement through the halls of her beloved home went unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t as quiet as a shadow, she would go undetected. The halls were empty save for her, as were the kitchens and the living quarters. No one wandered these walls right now, for their King was at the gates. More likely, their King was inside the gates, being welcomed home by the Lady of Winterfell.

Arya looked down from the window she was stood at, located in a secure corner of the castle. She need not worry about anyone seeing her here. From her vantage point she could see her sister, hair flaming in the cool winter light, grasping onto the brood shoulders of a man with dark curly hair. He stood in Sansa’s embrace and they clung to one another, a warm welcome between a brother and a most beloved sister.

_They have grown closer,_ Arya thinks, ashamed of the envy she feels as she takes in their familiarity with one another. She tries not to think about how that used to be _their_ bond. That out of all the Stark siblings, she was always closest to him and now, Sansa knows him better than Arya does. And it _hurts._

Arya turns her gaze from the pair and looks towards those that accompany the King. Behind him, stood a glowing figure; a woman stood with her back straight, her chin up, and white, silvery hair down to her waist. Even from how far she was, Arya could tell that this woman was not just a striking beauty, but that she commanded and held power. This woman stood in front of a group of men- soldiers- that were keeping an eye on the Northern men and women who had gathered into the courtyard to see the King in the North return. They were her guards, no doubt, for the woman must be the Dragon Queen. But Arya saw no dragons. Not yet.

Focusing her eyes back on to Sansa and the man she was embracing, Arya watched as they pulled away from each other. The man cupped Sansa’s face whispering to her and as she whispered back, his eyes darted around the courtyard in search of something he could not find. He looked for a little boy and girl, she knew. He looked for the little boy who climbed up walls and shot practice arrows, towards his brother’s target, missing the mark by more than two feet.

He searched for a little girl who ran with wind through every corner of the courtyard, laughing as she raced away from her mother and her Septa, between the feet of her father and his advisors. The little girl who used to fly straight into his arms for protection and solace. This man looked for someone who no longer existed.

_I am no longer little Arya Underfoot. Would he still have me, after all that I have done?_ Arya wonders, and fears the answer.

Taking a deep breath, Arya removed herself from the window, and began her walk to the one place in the grounds of Winterfell where, without outside observers and judgmental strangers, she would finally reunite with her brother.

**JON**

Jon was known to be a patient man. It was trait that many have said to be good to have as a soldier in battle and now as a King. However, after greeting Sansa and dismissing his bannermen to find themselves food and a long rest, Jon cannot help but feel his patience being tested. He knew there were introductions to be made, as Sansa had already inclined her head towards Dany. A subtle hint to Jon that it was only proper that he be the one to announce them to each other. But as he pulls back from her welcoming embrace, he can’t help but let his eyes scan the courtyard in search of a boy- no a _man_ \- who was sure to have Robb’s likeness and a _woman_ with grey eyes. His eyes.

“Jon.” Sansa whispered, low enough for only him to hear and calling his attention back to her, “I know you must be eager to see them. Trust me, I understand your struggle. But we mustn’t forget our new ally, nor the fact that I have yet to make her acquaintance.”

Seeing the frown forming on Jon’s face, her eyes softened, and she continued, “Besides, I am sure Bran and especially Arya would prefer not having stranger’s privy to your reunion. I assure you, they are just as impatient to be with you again as you are to be with them.”

Nodding, Jon finally took a step back and turned to Daenerys. She was still behind him, stood proudly, every bit the leader and Queen that was her birthright. Letting her eyes wander around, taking in every inch of Jon’s home with an almost childlike wonder. This made Jon smile.

“My Queen.” He says, and her eyes fly to his, her observations cut short, “Allow me to introduce you to the Lady of Winterfell, and my beloved sister Sansa of House Stark.”

If Sansa took issue with Jon referring to Dany with her royal title, she did not show it. Instead, she moved forward with all the grace of her Tully mother and greeted the Dragon Queen with a deep courtesy.

“Queen Daenerys. What an honor it is to have you in our home. My brother has written of your pledge to stand with the North in the fight against the dead. You have our gratitude.” Sansa declares, and Jon marvels at diplomatic Lady before him. How far Sansa had come from the little girl who dreamed of tourneys and princes.

“The honor is mine Lady Sansa,” Dany says, a fond smile washing over her face as her eyes glance over to Jon, “your brother is quite difficult to say no to. Besides, this fight is not just yours, it is the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms. Though I do not sit on the Iron Throne, it shall not prevent me from doing my duty to protect my people. And make not mistake, the Northmen _are_ my people.”

Jon looks between the two as Sansa takes in the words from Dany. There was an underlying current of possession in the Daenerys’ tone that could not be mistaken. Jon knew Dany meant to rule all of Seven Kingdoms, and while he bent the knee, it was still uncertain how his Northmen would react, and worse still, how Sansa would react. Jon sees Sansa purse her lips in contemplation, an act so reminiscent of their Father that he almost forgets to breathe.

“Well,” she finally says, “I’m sure there is much to discuss on the matter, however, now is not the time. Your journey was long and tiresome, I am sure. We have set up your chambers for you, a hot bath is ready and waiting. My lady’s maid will show you the way. As for your men, I am sure they are hungry. They can be escorted to the Great Hall if they wish to be, where we have food and drinks waiting.”

Dany agrees, nodding to Jon and turning to her men to guide them and give direction. Jon watches her walk away from him, already wishing to be in her presence once more. He just had to wait until nightfall.

Sansa turns her attention back on Jon, “I am sure you are tired too, Jon. Do you not wish to rest up a bit, maybe get some food and water?”

“No love, I want to see Bran and Arya. Take me to them?” Jon could hardly stand not being with them any longer. Everyone and everything else could wait.

As Sansa leads Jon away from the courtyard, he sees Davos taking Gendry to the forge and he is sure they were already talking quantities and strategies and how to produce the most amount of dragon glass weapons in the limited time they were given. Jon was glad to see this for Gendry had seemed a little distracted on the road to Winterfell and Jon needed the skilled Smith to be focused. 

Heading through the empty hallways, Sansa says “Jon, I must warn you. They are not how you remember. Sometimes I wonder if Bran even remembers me or us but then he’ll say things that _must_ means he remembers. And then he’ll say things that he shouldn’t possibly know but does in such ominous ways. It’s all very odd. And Ayra…” Sansa trails off, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, unwilling or unable to continue.

“What about her?!” he almost shouts, the impatience flowing through him once more. But before Sansa could elaborate, they stopped in front of a door that Jon knew to be the entrance of the Winterfell library.

“You’ll see,” she states, opening the door, “In the meantime, how about you go talk to your brother?”

Jon looks up and meets a pair of stormy Tully blue eyes. And a piece of his battered heart mends into place.

**Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are always appreciated** ****


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